Friday, October 11, 2019

LIFE, LIBERTY AND THE CREATION OF HAPPINESS, Yom Kippur, 5780--Oct. 9, 2019



            Gut Yontiff, everyone and G’mar hatimh tovah—We have now officially entered the tenth day of these Ten Days of Repentance. Let’s make sure we observe this day fully and pray to be sealed into the Book of Health, Prosperity, Fulfillment and Peace.
              One day, parents of a 13-year-old boy, mindful of the affluent suburb in which they were raising their son, wanted him too understand how grateful he should be for the riches and luxuries that he so often took for granted. And in order to drive this point home, they decided to take him on a trip to the countryside, where he could witness farm life, or at least people whose lifestyle and circumstances were markedly different and less sophisticated than their own. So the family took this trip, stayed in the countryside for a few days, and did their best to expose the young man to how “the others” lived. The boy was deeply impressed and on the way back, the parents asked him what he had learned from the excursion. The boy reflected on the family vacation and admitted that he found the whole thing eye-opening. He noted as follows: our family has a swimming pool, but the farm family had a river flowing near their property; our family has these outdoor electrical lights, but the farm family looks at the night time stars brighter than he has ever seen in his life; our family goes to the store to buy food, but the farm family just grows their own; our family has a dog, but the farm family has four dogs; our family is on property surrounded by a high fence, but the farm family seems to have fields that go on forever. The parents were a little taken aback by their son’s responses and finally asked him—Well what do you make of all this?  Whereupon their son concluded, “I never knew how poor we were.”
              The last time I looked at the Declaration of Independence, that august document asserted that our Creator has endowed us with certain unalienable rights, and among them are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I think we’re doing okay in the life department because after all, here we are and thank God we all look pretty much alive. As far as liberty goes, we still live in a country defined by a generous set of civil liberties and a court system to which we have recourse when we feel those liberties violated. But when it comes to happiness, we don’t seem to be doing as well. The United Nations, in its World happiness Report, found the United States to hold position number 18, well below Australia in position number 10, and Canada in position number 7, and 17 below the happiest nation in the world: Finland. It would seem to me that in a nation that feels good about itself, we would rate happier on the happy scale. But we didn’t. A survey by the American College Health Association also found 52% of college students feeling hopeless while another 39% have suffered from a depression that made it impossible for them to work effectively. That’s a lot of unhappiness. If we are all supposed to be pursuing happiness, I would say that our Happiness GPS system is malfunctioning.
              We can all probably come up with reasons for our unhappiness. We certainly live in a bruising and fractious atmosphere of political combat, which judging from everyone I speak to, makes us anxious. We listen to media outlets that strike us as hopelessly bias, and with all the charges of fake news and skewed reporting, many of us don’t know whom to believe, and in some cases, what to believe. Some people are very upset by the 1%, that is, that percentage of the population that seem to be making wildly more money than anyone else, perhaps because that’s true. And some of us are unhappy because there is a sense that we are living in a kind of end-time, in which the melting ice caps and burning rain forests point to a depletion of earth’s resources that this precious little blue planet of ours simply cannot sustain for long. Our days, or perhaps the days of our children on this earth, are numbered. If that doesn’t make you unhappy, I don’t know what would.
              One of the most popular courses at Yale University is taught by Professor Laurie Santos. It’s PSYC 157: Psychology and the Good Life. It essentially a course on the psychology of happiness, a course which draws on scientific research that has focused on what it is that makes people happy.  A lot of the research stems from the influence of Dr. Martin Seligman who was the founder of a strain of psychology known as positive psychology or the psychology of wellbeing. Because so much psychology of the past has dealt with people exhibiting a variety of mental illnesses or imbalances, Seligman’s idea was to find well-adjusted people, happy people, study them, and thus develop a whole school of psychology focused on mental wellbeing.
              How is your mental health these days? Are you happy? And if you are happy, what is it that has made you happy?
              When you wake up in the morning, is it a new day or is it another day. How you view that day may determine whether you are an optimist or a pessimist. The difference is important because as you may have already guessed, optimists are happier. You almost have to be by definition. What makes optimists happy are at least three different criteria:
1.       Optimists believe they are in control so events do not happen to them, rather they make things happen. When you feel yourself in control, you will almost always feel happier.
2.       Optimists are forward-looking, that is, they relegate the past to the past and see the neutrality of the present moment as an opportunity to make something good happen.
3.       Optimists tend to see the possibilities whereas the pessimist tends to see the problems. Because the optimist is confident that changes can be made, every problem presents the possibility of change. It is the ability to see opportunity in crisis that make optimists happy
In the famous last chapter of the Book of Proverbs, we read about the Eishet Hayil, the Woman of Valor, who is our earliest example of a woman who has it all—a husband, a family, a business, and prestige within the community. Her many attributes are enumerated—her market transactions, her late hours, her wisdom, and her industry—and among them is this one: Vatishak l’yom aharon (Proverbs 31:25b), “…she looks to the future cheerfully.” How many of us look to the future cheerfully? The Woman of Valor was also a woman of happiness.
              John Kralik was an attorney in LA and at the age of 53, he found himself in a particularly disheartening position. He was on his second divorce, alienated from his two kids, financially stressed out, unable to give his employees a Christmas bonus, he didn’t feel good about his weight, and on top of everything else, he was just feeling miserable. One day, on a hike, he decided that something had to change and in response to that yearning, he decided that he would write one thank you note each day to someone for whom he ought feel a sense of gratitude. And so he set about this task that culminated in a book entitled, “365 Thank Yous: The Year a Simple Act of Daily Gratitude Changed My Life.” Right now, you may think that you don’t have 365 thank yous to give, and if you think that, you’re right, because I estimate that just about everyone has 10,000 thank yous to give. The fact of the matter is that grateful people tend to be happy people. They forever see what they have as a blessing of sorts, and this even among those people who are not necessarily religious.
              What is it about hakarat hatov, acknowledging the good in life, that makes us happy. I think the issue has to do with a human evolutionary adaptation to the environment, in which identifying danger or problems register foremost in our brains. We can understand this easier if you think about the media and what sells. What sells? Bad news. Everyone is interested in bad news. We are almost predisposed to a fascination with bad news, probably because it serves as a warning to do whatever we need to do in order to protect ourselves. Good news? It doesn’t sell! Good news requires no action or response on our part but a mass shooting, a terrorist attack, a vicious hurricane, wildfires, etc. that will get our attention. That then is why gratitude makes us happier because all the other stuff that we are biologically and psychologically drawn to is not making us happier. It also suggests that we are biologically drawn to a distorted perception of the world because by ignoring or paying short shrift to the good, we read out of the world the good that actually is. We distort the reality of our lives. It is only by saying thank you that we actually correct the distortion and literally get a grip on reality.
              The story is told of a young man in his thirties who goes off to one of these male bonding weekends where the whole issue of men getting in touch with their feelings is discussed. On the agenda are all the people that have done good for us whom we have never properly thanked. The conference comes to a close and the young man returns home, having made a promise to thank his father whom he believes he has never properly thanked. He gets his father on the phone and his father says, “Oh, nice to hear from you son, l’ll get your mother.” The young man says “No, Dad, I want to talk to you.” There is a pause in the conversation and his father replies, “Are you in trouble?” The son says “No, Dad.” The father says, “You need money?” The son says, “No, Dad—I just want to say thank you for being such a great father and supporting me these many years and always being there when I needed you.” There s another pause in the conversation, and the father asks, “Have you been drinking?”
              The point is that if you think about those times when someone has actually taken time out and thanked you, it may have taken you by surprise but it probably also made you feel really good. Think about how many people you could make happy by virtue of a simple expression of gratitude. We are all veritable happiness making machines.
              How often after one of these terrible mass shootings do we hear neighbors talk about the alleged shooter in terms like these—He was so quiet. He kept to himself. He never bothered anyone. And, of course, the shock value in all this is the combination of an irrational act of terror from someone who otherwise has seemed so overwhelmingly polite or, in the very least, innocuous. But what people may be describing, perhaps unknowingly, are individuals who are socially isolated, who don’t belong or fit into traditional communities that would otherwise reign in the wayward thinking and anger of its members.
              In Christian faith communities, you have people talking about the true meaning of Christianity and it is a tool for dealing with people’s anger. So yes—you may in fact hate your neighbor, but wait—Is that very Christian of you? Maybe you have to rethink that hatred of your neighbor. And in Judaism, there was always a concept of mipnei darkei shalom, meaning “for purposes of peace.” Yes, we know that you are averse to participating in certain affairs of the wider community, but you know what—you’re going to participate anyway mipnei darkei shalom, for purposes of peace, and remember, Jewish people are big proponents of peace. I don’t mean to suggest that either faith community offers  a foolproof structure for tempering the passions of their constituent hot heads, but they do have such mechanisms in place that can respond to people with such proclivities, hopefully before someone does something foolish and or tragic.
              When people grow alienated from that tradition, what will serve as the energy to counter their baser inclinations? Remember we live in an age where religion is viewed with suspicion, some of that attitude justified given the bad behavior of clergy, and we also live in an age where the emphasis on individualism condones the life choices of loners. I’m going to make a couple of generalizations now—always dangerous—but I think they are justified as a broad sweeping observation, with notable exceptions.
1.       It’s hard to be happy alone;
2.       Joy is an emotion almost always shared with someone else;
It is no accident that when the Torah commands us to be joyous over a festival, as for example it does with Sukkot (coming up in just a few days), it then adds that you must be joyous “with your son and daughter (read that as your family), your male and female slave (read that as your employees), the Levite (read that as the local leadership), the stranger, the fatherless and the widow (read them as the people whose life situations inhibit them from full participation in the community). In other words, don’t let anyone play the loner. Everyone should feel the joy because that’s how we experience joy. No one truly experiences joy sitting in front of a computer screen.
              Unless you’re talking to your grandchildren. Have I told you about my grandchildren? Wait—this is important, and it has to do with the role of the Internet in our lives. We are struggling as a modern liberal society to determine the effects of the Internet on our lives and we will probably not fully understand its impact for at least another couple generations. On the one hand it is an incredible tool of staying in touch with loved ones. Anyone who has used Face Time or Google Hangout or Zoom knows firsthand the power of this technology. On the other hand, the way we consume entertainment these days, or listen to lectures, from Netflix to Amazon Prime to On Demand to Spotify, all these applications which have brought the world into our kitchens, our dens, and our bedrooms, have also given us reason to never leave home. Remember the old American Express ads which touted the American Express credit car with the slogan, “Never leave home without it”? That ad would no longer resonate in this new generation of technology. Now you have few reasons to ever leave home because the purchase can be made from the comfort of your home. Does that keep us connected or is it isolating us socially from one another. And if we grow increasingly socially isolated from one another, can we ever be happy?
              There is a Conservative Movement teshuvah, a rabbinic answer to an interesting question about whether one can create a minyan on-line. In other words, let’s say we decided, next year, instead of coming to shul for Kol Nidre, everyone stayed at home and tuned into the Zoom Room Kol Nidrei service, and we get 1200 people in the same cyberspace room. Would that make for a legitimate minyan? My initial response to that questions was—What a great idea! Maybe not for Kol Nidre but during the week—why schlep out to the synagogue for an evening service? Stay at home, log onto the Zoom Room, we get ten people and a minyan we have made. The rabbis rejected the idea. They said there is no such thing as a minyan in Cyberspace. A minyan must take place in real space. In real space we can put a hand on someone’s shoulder, we can talk to a person with our mouths and read their facial expressions, we can create holy space by filling physical space with sacred and ancient sentiments—that’s a minyan. We dare not think that community can be real, if the community isn’t in real space. To be part of a community is to feel a sense of belonging, and a sense of belonging creates happiness.
              It turns out a lot of things we think would make us happy don’t. Do you think that having a bigger house will make you happy? Researchers have determined it doesn’t. What about having great grades in school? No—that apparently doesn’t make students happy. What about being able to take a long and luxurious vacation? No—that won’t make you happier. What about making more money? Will that make you happy? Two Nobel Laureates in Economics, Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton, studied 1000 American households and did find a positive correlation between making more money and happiness, but only up to about $75,000. After that, there seems to be little increase in happiness as one’s income rises. That puts the price of happiness at about $75,000—I’m going to say $78,000 because I want to adjust for inflation.
              What about time? Do you think having more time would make you happy? There is this relationship between time and money in so far as some people believe that time is money. But that is just a platitude that doesn’t hold up under analysis. A professor at the Harvard Business School, Ashley Whillans, teamed up with Elizabeth Dunn, a professor at the University of British Columbia, to study how people interact with money versus time. And they discovered something very interesting. They found that if they were to give someone $100, that person would likely spend it on a treat of sorts, some unbudgeted item. On the other hand, given an extra hour, the person would use it to complete some task, bills, yardwork, and so forth. It’s odd because treated as commodities, money is very elastic—you can theoretically get more of it by working an extra job. Were you to pay your bills with it, you would still have some left over for a treat. Time, in contrast, is very inelastic. You only have so much of it. But once people get a little extra of it, they use it for stuff that they are already committed to doing. The odd thing is that when asked about time, many Americans, especially parents, express a sense of exasperation, of feeling rushed and pressured, of wishing they had more time to spend with their family and friends. There is, on balance, far greater satisfaction that comes with an abundance of time in contrast with what may come from an abundance of money, yet given the extra  time, people waste it on doing what they already are slated to do. They don’t use their time for a treat.  Isn’t it interesting that within Jewish tradition, time is sanctified. The Festivals, Shabbat, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur—all times when we are actually forbidden from doing the very work that had we the extra time, we would definitely use to complete that work. And yet, the tradition says, don’t use it in that way. The work gets done. The pay checks will come. But once the time passes, there is no getting it back. It is precisely because it is so finite in its nature—at least for a living human being—that time becomes infinitely more precious than money. If we had more time, we would be happier, provided we used it wisely.
              There was a woman living in a poor, rural town, far into the countryside, that the townspeople regarded as a surly, sour witch. Frankly, the townspeople were not terribly nice either, so you can imagine just how terrible the old woman must have been! She seemed always complaining, always bitter, always spiteful. Most people avoided her. She was uniquely unlikeable. And then, on her 80th birthday, she threw a party for the townspeople. They weren’t sure what to make of it. Go to that party of that ungrateful, resentful curmudgeon? Then again—it was a party—music, dancing, free food and drink. They went and to their utter surprise, found a woman completely changed—singing, laughing, playing the hostess with the mostess and making sure that all the guests were well taken care of. It came time to cut the cake and she called for a bit of order in the towns square. She was about to make a speech. She welcomed the guests. She expressed the hope that they were having a good time. She emphasized how much she wanted them to take a slice of cake and the party favors she provided for all. And then she said—If I seem different to you this day it is because I am. All my life I have been pursuing happiness and for eighty years, I have failed to find it. And so, I have decided to stop pursuing happiness, because I have discovered that happiness is not out there. Pursue happiness and you will find only unhappiness, because true happiness is in here (point to heart) and it is up to you to create it.
              The townspeople were stunned and had never heard such profound thoughts from anyone, no less from a woman they had so disliked. And so the townspeople got their cake and their party favors, they walked back to their cottages next to a beautiful river shimmering in the moonlight, gazed at the stars shining brilliantly in the night sky above them, breathed in the rich fragrance of the fields of grass stretching out beyond them for miles, and it suddenly dawned on them all just how rich they really were, and that sense of wealth in things intangible, made them happy.
There is actually a very simple happiness test that you can take which will determine whether you are happy or not. I had to think a bit before taking it because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. Anyway, I took the test which is all of four questions, and as it turns out, I am happy to report that I am happy. But I think I already knew that. Anyway, on this most sacred day of the year, I want to wish you all life, liberty, but not the pursuit of happiness, for that is a sure path toward finding nothing more than unhappiness. Rather, I wish you the strength and wisdom to create your own happiness, and that way, you will never have to take a test to find out if you are or you aren’t.
Tzom Kal—Have an Easy but also a Very Fulfilling Fast!
             
             
             



Wednesday, October 2, 2019

STEPPING INTO YOUR SELF, ROSH HASHANAH 5780 / 2019


Shanah Tovah, everyone. It is wonderful to see us all together, the Midway Family, and may we all be blessed with a New Year of Prosperity, Health, and above all, Peace.

                Several men are in the locker room of a golf club, cleaning up after eighteen holes in the hot sun. A cell phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands-free speaker function and begins to talk. Everyone in the room stops to listen.
He says: Hello
She says: Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?
He says: Yes.
She says: I'm at the mall now and found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $1,300. Is it okay if I buy it?
He says: Sure, go ahead if you like it that much.
She says: I also stopped by the Mercedes dealership and saw the new AMG C 63S sedan. I really liked it.
He says: How much?
She says: $75,000
He says: Okay, but for that price, I want it with all the options.
She says: Great.  And one more thing. The house we wanted last year is back on the market at a reduced price. They're asking only $2.3 million.
He says: Well, go ahead and give them an offer, but start at $2 million.
She says: Okay, I'll see you later. I love you.
He says: Bye. I love you too.
The man ends the conversation, looks up, and all the other men in the locker room are looking at him in astonishment. Then he smiles and asks: Anyone know whose cell phone this is?

            Every now and then, people say. Be yourself. I think that is, in general, good advice. Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), the Irish poet and playwright, is purported to have said, “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.” That, too, is fairly sound advice. But suppose you were to wake up one day and realize that you don’t particularly care for the person you’ve become? Should you still strive to be yourself or should you strive to make some changes and be the person you think you ought to be?

            Felicity Huffman, one of the stars of the comedy-drama “Desperate Housewives,” is one of the 51 people who got caught in a college admissions scheme that has brought shame to her and to her family. She admitted to paying $15,000 to boost her older daughter’s SAT scores in order to increase her chances of admission into a good university. “Good university,” by the way, has since been identified as places like Stanford, Yale, Georgetown and the University of Southern California.

            This is about as clear an example of cheating as there is. Why would a parent do something like this? The predominant reason given in the media was anxiety over their children’s future and whether the parents had done enough for their children. Who among us, so many parents in this room, hasn’t wondered whether we have done enough for our children?

            Should I have gotten her that math tutor in the eighth grade?
            Should I have encouraged him to take a couple more AP courses?
            Should I have discouraged her from taking so many AP courses?
            Should I have made him go to that therapist for his social anxieties?

It’s not easy being a parent.

I mention Felicity Huffman because I commend her for having come around, for having done the right thing—admitting her guilt and accepting her punishment, which includes 14 days in prison, a $30,000 fine, and 250 hours of community service. That sounds like a fair punishment, but the real punishment was not the sentence given by the judge, but the question posed to her from the daughter she wanted to help, who asked her mother why she didn’t believe in her, capping that question with a more damning statement: “I don’t know who you are anymore.” Perhaps Felicity realized that she had become someone she didn’t want to be.

            When parents take over their children’s lives, becoming their CAOs—their Chief Advancement Officers—completing their homework, writing their essays, and challenging the school every time they perceive a given grade to be unfair—they do a great disservice to their children. And this may sound a tad harsh: the disservice committed is preventing a child from either succeeding or failing on their own. There is nothing sweeter than a success achieved by one’s own independent efforts, and as for failure, parents have a critical role to play when it comes to failure. We are able to teach our kids to never confuse failure with tragedy. We’ve all learned that lesson, in many cases the hard way, but it’s true. And it’s a lesson best learned at a younger rather than an older age. To rid children’s lives of failure is to deny them an important learning experience. And if you say, not without reason, that it’s not what you know but who you know, I will counter that by saying that the who-you-know will probably open some doors for you, but ultimately it’s the what-you-know that keeps you in the room. There has to be a good deal of correspondence between what the public sees on the outside of a person and what is actually going on within the inside of a person.

L’olam yehei adam yerei shamayim b’seter uvegalui
People should always be yerei shamayim,
(something like people who act always with reverence for heaven, whatever that means)
in public and in private.

This is a truth found in our prayer books and our mahzorim, recited every single morning. It’s an ideal, to be sure, because everyone has a public life that is a little different from their private life. I would assume as much and there’s nothing wrong with that, but there is something wrong with a public face that is so out-of-whack with one’s private life that the two clash in what can only amount to a tragic and fatal collision.

I think very sadly about how hard it must have been for Robin Williams, a brilliant comedian and actor, to be Robin Williams. Or Kate Spade, the fashion designer, to be Kate Spade.  Or Anthony Bourdain, the celebrity chef, to be Anthony Bourdain. When they ended their lives, as all three did, we were shocked. We suddenly learned that their private persona was at serious odds with their public persona. They had so much to live for, they were all so talented, they were all so bright and creative, yet they could not synch their public and private lives? They were not the people they really wanted to be.  

There is an old midrash about Yom Kippur (really it’s about this entire season of repentance) which I have always found a bit forced, but over the years, come to appreciate. It’s a midrash in which an analogy is drawn between Yom Kippur and another Jewish holiday, but one that on the surface would seem the least likely candidate for an appropriate analogy, and that is Purim.  The midrash essentially draws this comparison on the basis of an alternative name for Yom Kippur (a Day of Atonement) which would be Yom Kippurim (a Day of Atonements). And so the midrash goes—Yom Kippur is really (and now I’m going to translate): Yom (a day), k’ (like), Purim (Purim). And how exactly is Yom Kippur like Purim? It is like Purim in a number of respects, but for our purposes, they are both days of wearing masks. On Purim, we wear the masks of Esther and Mordechai, and on Yom Kippur we wear the masks of someone we are not. We put on our masks, or in other words, we enter this whole season of teshuvah in disguise, failing to see within ourselves all the stuff that is making us believe or act in ways that do not truly reflect just how talented, just how blessed, just how loveable we really are. In our heart of hearts, we all know what we need to change, and we even come close to admitting what it is we need to change, but ultimately, change is hard. To change means having to concentrate and invest in ourselves and what happens if we fail?

            This resistance to change seems to be universal. And you know who resists change most vehemently? Addicts. Addiction is a serious problem in our nation. If you are, or you know anyone who is addicted to drugs or opioids, you need or you need to get someone else help. It’s a matter of life or death. The National Institute of Drug Abuse estimates that every day in our nation, 130 people die of drug overdose. These people have become something they are not; their addiction is preventing them from being who they truly are. There is a way to break the habit, which entails both an alternative drug therapy and a 12-Step program. The 12-Step program, I think, is a particularly effective program for those courageous enough to follow it.  And the thought occurred to me that if it works on the addicts, maybe it would work on any of us who need to change, but no matter how many times we make the commitment, the resolution, the pledge, somehow we end up drifting. Could it be that we are addicted to our own bad habits and negative attitudes?

I don’t know how many of you attend a 12-Step program, and I’m not asking you to tell me, but if you do go, I want to commend you and honor you for seeing within yourself a need that the 12-Steps addresses, and for you having the courage and discipline to change. There are 12-Step programs for alcohol addiction, drug addiction, gambling addiction, food addiction, and I wish there was one more 12-Step program for attitude addiction, devoted to all of us who are trying to kick those aspects of ourselves that are, let’s say, unlovable. It’s those personality traits that make us jealous, envious, resentful, arrogant, dismissive, condescending, temperamental, vengeful, spiteful, loud, self-righteous, petty, stingy, lazy, bigoted... I could keep going but while in the presence of a fundamentally loveable crowd such as this one, there is no need. We each know our weaknesses, we each know our shortcomings and how difficult it is to extirpate them from our character. And that’s where the 12-Step program comes in because woven within the 12-Steps is this definite world view which compels us to take the steps that move us to change.

Step #1: Admit that you are powerless over your addiction.
Step #2: Accept into your life a power greater than yourself.
Step #3: turn your life over to that power.

I need not go into all 12-Steps because the first three actually tell us something that our Jewish heritage has been telling us for 2500 years:

L’olam yehei adam yerei shamayim b’seter uvegalui
People should always be yerei shamayim (live in awe of Heaven)
in public and in private.

The 12-Step program, whether it is framed within a context of spirituality or secularism, will always remind you that you can’t do it alone, that you have to find a power greater than yourself to help you make the changes you need to make. For us, as Jews, that power is the power of yirat shamayim, living in reverence of and with reverence for heaven.

The yirei shamayim walk this world not as the king of beasts, but as guests of God in a world of His creations—the mountains and the valleys, the oceans and the heavens, the planets and the stars. They see themselves as guests in God’s home and because they are guests, they behave as guests, with a large degree of reserve and respect for the world in which they find themselves.

The yirei shamayim do see themselves as the very pinnacle of material creation. As the Psalmist puts it, “You have made humanity just a tad shy of angelic” (Psalm 8:6). The yirei shamayim can look at the crooks, the murderers, the dictators, the terrorists, and still claim that with all of its faults, human life is outstanding. And because humanity has been so marvelously crafted by God, one dare not think of harming oneself, no more than one might think of destroying the work of a Michelangelo or a Picasso, though in this case, the artist is God. That creates an urgency to synch your public face with your private face.

The yirei shamayim not only believe that they must do what is right and good and moral, but they believe that they are every year, or possibly every moment, held accountable for their every action. In other words, they are not lone actors in this world. They are partners with God—subordinate partners to be sure, but partners nonetheless—and they had better toe the line when it comes to their responsibilities in this world.

Yirei shamayim are not arrogant, for arrogance would be a sin. But yirei shamayim are confident, as creations of God, that they are worthy of love—the love of others and the love with which they ought to treat themselves. I want to let you know that we are all worthy of love. And we’re loveable not because we’re perfect—who is perfect anyway?—but we are loveable because we are the most extraordinary of all creations on earth. And until we find life elsewhere in our universe, we are the most extraordinary creations within the universe, to be loved by others, and to be worthy of self-love as well.

V’ahavta l’reiakha kamokhah
Love your neighbor as yourself… (Leviticus 19:18)

Love yourself! But that returns us to our initial question: Do you love yourself? And what happens if you don’t, if you have become someone you really don’t want to be?

Whatever it is within yourself that you don’t love, you can get rid of. But you’re going to have to admit that you are powerless, and that there does exist within this universe a power greater than you, and that this power is capable of operating within you if you let it, and with that power operating within you, you can make just about any change you put your mind to. You have to become one of the yerei shamayim, operators in life who act only with great reverence of and for Heaven, and you have to do it in public and in private. Not easy, but doable.

Does the possibility of a long-term period of concerted effort scare you? Don’t let it scare you. Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden of Eden. They lived together, east of Eden, tilling the earth, raising children, and struggling to stay alive. After years of struggle, when their children were grown, the dog had died, the mortgage was paid, they decided to travel and see the world.  They journeyed from one corner of the earth to the next. In the course of their journeys, they happened upon the entrance to the Garden of Eden, the old neighborhood, now guarded by the cherubim, angels, bearing an eternally turning, flaming sword. They considered whether or not it was possible to return to it.  Suddenly, the cherubim disappeared, the eternally turning, flaming sword vanished into thin air; the path into the Garden opened and a marvelously rich voice filled the air: “Eve, Adam—if you really want to return, you are free to enter.” Adam and Eve immediately recognized the voice as the voice of God. God had not spoken to them since their exile and now God spoke again, this time with an invitation to return to paradise. But the two had forgotten what paradise was like, and so far as they were on vacation, they wanted to know what they could expect should they devoted their limited time to a trip to Eden.  So this is where God had to become a travel agent, to explain the better features of Eden. “The Garden is paradise,” God responded. “In the garden there is no work, no struggle, no toil, no pain, no suffering. In the Garden there is no self-consciousness, no moral dilemmas, and no challenges. Day after day, life goes on, uneventful, no surprises, everything is perfectly controlled. It is an endless life of ease.” Eve turned to Adam and Adam to Eve, whereupon Eve said, “Our lives together have been all about the challenges we’ve met, the successes we’ve achieved, and the failures we’ve overcome. It has been the crises that we have endured, without running away from them, hiding from them, that have made us the humans we are today.” And Adam, reflecting on Eve’s response and God’s description of paradise, concluded, “It sounds like a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.” The two turned their backs on paradise, and as Eve and Adam continued on their journey having refused even an hour or two in Eden, one could hear that deep, resonant voice again say, “Good choice.” (After a tale by Rabbi Ed Feinstein).

            If you were to think back on some of the most memorable moments in your life, aside from those times when the One Arm Bandit smiled generously upon you in Vegas, the moments we appreciate the most are very often connected to extended periods of sacrifice. These are periods in our lives when we kept late hours, concentrated on just a few goals, exerted ourselves mentally and physically, and accomplished what we needed to accomplish either on our own or with a trusted team. We shortchange ourselves when we think that what we have coming to us we can get for free. And what we get for free, when we get it, is not appreciated, for after all, we exerted no effort in obtaining it. Change is difficult, but if you really want to change, the difficulties are what make the whole process worthwhile.

            One last thought. We believe in the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. We also believe in the God of Sarah, the God Rebecca, the God of Rachel and the God of Leah. There is only one God, but each of our ancestors had their own unique relationship with God. Their God is not going to help you. Only your God is going to help you, and your God is the God that you establish an intimate relationship with. It’s your God who will be your higher power.

            Be yourself, but be the self that is fashioned by God. Don’t be the self fashioned by resentment, hatred or jealousy, drugs, alcohol or gambling or an unhealthy solicitousness for your children. Be the self in private that everyone loves in public, and if you fail, that’s no sin. The only sin is to think that change is impossible… And also answering someone else’s cell phone pretending to be someone you are not.

            Shanah Tovah, everyone.


Friday, July 5, 2019

THE ROW OVER ROE


To write about abortion these days is a sign either of courage or madness, and perhaps a bit of both. Nonetheless, to ignore abortion given the distressing and volatile space it occupies in contemporary political discourse strikes me as negligent, and it’s not as if Torah doesn’t have a thing or two to say about the matter. As with so many tough issues that require thoughtful reflection, Torah urges us to use one of God’s greatest gifts to us: our reason. Let’s indulge both our courage and our madness in thinking however briefly about this troubling debate within the nation.

To begin with, a clarification: The abortion debate in our nation will be addressed through the courts, a dauting task even for so august an institution as the American judicial system since abortion is so much a tangle of ethics, faith, biology, and identity. My approach will focus heavily on the moral, not legal dimensions of abortion. The legal discussion is best left to lawyers and the courts. Secondly, let’s agree to reject those simple-minded labels: pro-choice and pro-life. Quick and dirty political tags are designed to create adversity, not clarity, as if pro-lifers reject choice and pro-choicers reject life. I wish people were that neatly categorized, but they aren’t.

Many Jews believe that the thrust of Torah, because it allows for abortion, somehow is protective of a woman’s right to choose. Only half of this perception is true. Torah does allow for abortion under certain circumstances, but the license it gives to abortion is not based on a woman’s autonomous self. The Torah permits abortion based on its perception that a fetus is not a human being. A fetus would be regarded as something more akin to a growth, or an organ like any other organ in female anatomy, and as such, its removal can in no way constitute murder. Moreover, if given the choice between saving the life of a viable human being and an organ that poses some sort of threat to that human being, the Torah is fairly certain that the mother’s life takes precedence.

In Roe v. Wade (1973), the Supreme Court struck down a Texas law, and thus all such laws, that prohibited abortion under any circumstances. The decision was largely based on the presumption of a constitutional right to privacy which would cover a woman’s decision to end her own pregnancy, again under certain circumstances. What made the decision controversial was a serious question about whether the US Constitution actually did provide for a right to privacy, and even if it did, whether such a right would cover abortion. Moreover, the decision provoked protest and outrage since not everyone sees the fetus as would the Torah, as a mere growth or organ of the mother. If the fetus is a human being, then ending its life is murder, and no right to privacy can possibly used to condone murder.

The story goes that Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black (1886-1971) was given to removing his $0.25 copy of the Constitution from his back pocket, waving it about and declaring something to the effect of—I searched through this document and can’t find any provision for a right to privacy. Most legal scholars would agree that there is no explicit clause to that effect, but might also argue that the Constitution does provide for certain protections that seem to emanate from a concern for privacy. Leaving that legal argument behind, it seems to me incongruous that a document serving as the basis for American civil liberties could not in some way be understood as protective of privacy, but even that is a far cry from a clear and unequivocal right to privacy. You can see why Roe rests on contested, and thus shaky legal grounds.

But today, in 2019, Roe is challenged in another way that the justices in 1973 could not have anticipated. Attitudes toward pregnancy have adjusted in line with medical advances that have made pregnancy and birth much safer. Mothers are exposed to the fetus’ heartbeat, sex, a photo of the fetus in situ, and the potential for any birth defects. Twenty-first century parents may hang that sonogram photo of the fetus on the refrigerator, attend a baby shower, arrange for a Gender Reveal party at which the baby’s gender is announced, and even create a Facebook page for the anticipated arrival. They may even name the fetus before its birth. Parents and health care providers have conferred, most likely inadvertently, a kind of personhood on the fetus that it heretofore did not have, and when popular perception of a fetus evolves from the mysteries surrounding gestation to an entity treated as a person with a specific identity, some future Supreme Court just might champion a State’s interest or obligation to protect life over and above any right to privacy that Roe attempted to guarantee.

The rate of abortions seem to be diminishing, according to those who monitor these surgeries. That’s a good thing. I wouldn’t wish any woman the trauma of having to terminate a pregnancy. On the other hand, a legal system that would force women to bear children they do not want would create a host of social problems that would not bode well for babies, mothers, parents, politicians, the nation, and a host of others we could probably enumerate without end. But as you can see, there are good reasons why the abortion question remains as divisive and volatile today as it was 50 year ago. In the end, I doubt that the Torah could unequivocally conclude that abortion should be either legal or illegal. As with so many ethical questions, the genius of Torah assures us that the justice of any one abortion will always be bathed in the shifting light and shadows of the reasons why it is sought. And to wade through that morass of factors, circumstances, emotions, apprehensions, etc., will take a Solomon, not a Supreme Court.